Steve Fox is Dead
by The One and Only Birdie
Summary: Nina waits, stoic, in the Elephant Cafe. Her "date," the infamous playboy Steve Fox comes like a mouse to the cheese, no idea what awaits him behind the cafe's doors. Takes place after Tekken 4. One Shot


"**Steve Fox is Dead"**

Customers came and went, filing in and out of the doors of the Elephant Café in Edinburgh. Some tables were taken by college students, swapping notes and complaining about professors. Professors wrote in other corners, so they could publish and not perish, and authors set apart a piece of time to finish their magnum opus.

Nina glared disdainfully at her foam cup. Coffee shops. The nesting grounds of "independent" thinkers who would come to the same conclusions, and argue with one another about why they agree. The perpetrator of the caffeine culture that drank the world's soul. Her coffee sat untouched, steaming. Like Nina.

_Where IS he?!_ She felt out of place enough, with her black coat and bright red nails. She could sense the neo-Bohemians eyeing her up. She wasn't one for patience, and she had already driven for six hours, let alone the ferry ride, just to get here from Dublin. Some London boy wasn't worth this. No boy was worth this.

The door swung open, and the corner of Nina's eye caught a dark coat. Steve paused in the door. His blond hair messily combed back from his face, tumbling back over his blue eyes determinedly. He saw her, waved like an idiot, and then approached. "I wasn't sure you'd come," he admitted, sitting across the table from her. His voice dripped with London.

"Just act like I'm one of the girls you pick up at pubs." Nina pushed her coffee forward in an apathetic offer.

"Well, most girls I meet don't offer me their personal drink." He smiled over the lid as he took it gratefully. "I never took you for so nurturing."

"Alibi," Nina said evasively. "Why sit in a coffee shop without a spot of coffee, eh?"

Steve cocked an eyebrow at her poor imitation of his accent. "Whatever you say, you can just admit you were looking out for me, you know, I wouldn't think any less of you."

"I was looking _for _you, there's a difference." She heaved a sigh. She hadn't managed to make eye contact thus far. This meeting was going to be far more difficult than she could have imagined. Who would have thought? They came from similar backgrounds, they were both from the United Kingdom, they should have a wellspring of things to talk about. At the moment, she couldn't look at him, though.

He had her eyes.

"So, Miss. Lady of Mystery," Steve began. "How was your ride up?"

"Long and torturous." She dropped her hand from her cheek. She hadn't realized it was cradled there, and she didn't want to give any body language hints.

"Aw, I can only hope I can make this whole thing worthwhile!" He flashed her a smile he must use often on fan girls, girls at bars, girls he went on dates with. He was flirting with her. Great.

"Why do you think I invited you here?" Her voice was terse, and she could sense him tense up because of it. It was better this way. Cold, icy, and professional.

"Judging by your reaction, I can only assume you're a glutton for discomfort." His tone was joking, but his eyes were not. Obviously, he preferred more comfortable social scenes. Well, she wasn't planning on babying him.

"Understand that the information I'm giving you is highly sensitive, you can tell no one."

Steve's leaned forward, smiling with charming sympathy. "Look, if you have a thing for me," he began. "It's alright, I'll keep it confidential. I don't need to brag about this sort of thing, you don't have to worry about hiding—"

Nina cut in and said "I'm your mother."

His expression gradually lost its softness, as he tightened his eyebrows. "….What?" He puzzled over it a moment more, examining her. She could sense his eyes on her, and she resisted a scowl. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-one."

Steve laughed out loud. "Alright, then, well, I—I'm sorry, but I do think my Mom would have to be a _little_ bit older than me… twins, maybe, okay, I could deal with that…"

"I'm not trying to make this easier for you to deal with." She kept her voice even, trying as hard as she could not to sound like a madwoman with the information she just dropped on him. "It's just something you need to know."

He investigated her further. His inner lie detector was racing a mile a minute, and he seemed to have trouble to process the information he was just fed. "…You're utterly serious, aren't you? You believe it."

"I was in cryogenic sleep. I was for nearly twenty six years, I've been on Earth forty-seven years, but my body is only twenty-one." Alright, Nina had to admit, it sounded insane. She almost didn't believe it either when she woke up from cryo-sleep.

"Next you're going to tell me someone from the future sent a robot to kill me or some such nonsense." Steve flipped his hair out of his face, eyes scanning the café for something to look at other than her.

"No, I was sent to kill you. But I didn't."

That got Steve's attention. Looking at her again, he saw the scene so perfectly. Walking out of the Mishima Zaibatsu, coming into broad daylight, his two body guards betrayed him, turning two guns on him. Then the disembodied shots came from a nearby house, felling the guards. It all happened so fast, but he saw the woman, blonde, dressed in black, running as a police officer came in pursuit. If he hadn't tackled the officer… "…You saved me. You're the woman who saved me, I didn't recognize you—"

"I did what I had to."

"No, you did exactly what you weren't supposed to do."

Nina hadn't wanted him to remember that tidbit. That was the day she found out who he was to her, and somehow, shooting her son sounded a little sick, even for a high-profile assassin such as herself. "Look. I don't want to play mommy. I don't want to be your guardian angel. I have no plans of packing your lunches every morning and sending you off into the big bad world."

"I've seen enough of it without your help, s'matter of fact."

"Exactly. I'm just here because… because…" She couldn't even put words to it. When she thought about it, she didn't know why she was telling him this. Pity? Some sort of family duty? Friendship? She couldn't be close, not to him or anyone else. The mist around the corner of her eyes scared her—when her icy exterior melted, she didn't want him to see the tears.

"I…" Steve paused after started. "Look at me." His voice was firm, it was clearly a command. Nina wasn't sure she could comply. Gradually, however, she brought her face up to meet his. His eyebrows pulled together as he examined her features. "I… just might believe you."

"I found out when I broke into the Mishima Zaibatsu's database." She dropped her eyes to the table, where she rapped her nails on the table. "It's genetic, there's no arguing with it."

Once again, Steve laughed. He had a knack for laughing at inappropriate moments, she observed. Something he definitely didn't get from her. She looked up at him, just as he curled his hand in front of his mouth. "You know how many years I wondered? 'What's he look like, what's she do, where'd they go?' Lot of 'em, I'm telling you, a lot of 'em, and if I knew for a moment it was you this whole time—" he stopped, composing himself. "I'm not sure I ever would have believed you!"

"I don't remember my parents," Nina replied. It was a fact. She had an idea, their names were on file and occasionally she could visit a cemetery. Were they good parents? Were they strict, fun? All of that was buried alongside them, held only by that woman who claimed to be her sister.

The sound of Steve's voice snapped Nina out of her reminiscence. "Did they die while you were young?"

"No, I… Well, I don't know. I got amnesia."

Once again, surprise. This boy was really going to have to learn to expect the unexpected before it bit him in the ass. "What?" Steve asked.

"After I woke up from cryosleep, I had amnesia, so I… I can understand that."

Steve nodded. Silence wafted over to their table, ceasing all conversation. What more was there to say? Three bombs should be enough to drop on any one person, and she knew enough about him that there was probably nothing that he could say that would surprise her.

"Well, if you want to survive," Nina began, pulling out napkins and wiping the table with them. "You need to just fall off of the face of the Earth. I can't be playing Clint Eastwood all the time, people will find a way to find you and kill you so long as you keep your name and people think you're alive."

"I understand." He seemed more curious as to what she was doing with the napkin on the table. He was even more surprised when she lifted his cup and wiped it off too, just in case.

"I'm not here to take you to day care, you don't have to fill any part of my life. I don't want to nurture and you don't have to send me a Christmas card if you don't want to. I just wanted you to know what I know. Even the playing field. Since it isn't just my problem, it's yours too."

"I still understand."

The loud wail of a fire alarm interrupted them. Steve jumped, looking around at the sprinklers right before they sprang to life. Laughing aloud at yet another inappropriate moment, Steve shouted over the alarm "Always something, eh?"

"It was good to meet you," Nina replied. It was nice to have one relative not trying to kill her. Something of a comfort in this hustle and bustle world. With that, she turned and approached her car. Steve watched her go momentarily, before shaking his head and heading to his own car. The wail of sirens came from all around as people spilled from the café.

Once Steve was safely in his car, she watched him drive away. The instant his car was out of range, she tapped her phone and curls of fire burst from the café. Windows shattered in a thousand pieces as people dropped to the ground to avoid getting hit. The walls crumbled like a card castle, each falling into itself as fire claimed it.

Flipping open the phone, Nina hoped that Steve would take her advice. It would make things a lot less complicated. Dialing the #1 speed dial, she murmured: "Steve Fox is dead."


End file.
